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had been since the grandmother, Mrs. Nottingham, had bought the woman’s indenture mere months before Raleigh left. Now that Tabitha was alone in the world, Raleigh expected Patience had taken on an even more protective role.
    “Is she truly well?” he decided to ask.
    “As well as a woman of four and twenty and still unwed can be.” Patience pierced him with her eyes the green of the sea before a storm. “You’re talking like an Englishman. Did you go back to your sainted mother’s people?”
    “Not by choice.” He made himself focus on the old lady. “I was on a merchantman bound for China. A British frigate hauled me aboard and asked me a lot of questions.”
    Lantern light had hung in his face so he couldn’t see the officers except for the occasional glint of a blade. They’d struck his head when hauling him out of his boat and onto their deck. He’d been dizzy, cloudy of brain, sick in body.
    “I made the mistake of telling them my mother is from Halifax. That made me English enough in their eyes to justify tossing me into the stinking coffin they call a man-of-war, and made me—” His fists clenched on his thighs. “I’ve tried everything to get away, to get back to Tabitha.”
    “Before or after you were pressed?”
    Raleigh swallowed and dug his knuckles into his thigh muscles. He couldn’t meet Patience’s eyes. “After.”
    “And now you’ve managed to—what?—desert, and you want to renew your relationship with Tabitha?”
    “You’re rather forward for a redemptioner,” Raleigh retorted.
    “I’m free now and I’m all she has—me and Japheth, the outdoor man. Someone has to see to her welfare.”
    All she had were two servants who would be free to leave her in a matter of years.
    Raleigh hung his head. “I want . . . her forgiveness. I’ve prayed for two years to see her again.”
    “Praying’s more than she does these days.” Sorrow filled the woman’s voice. “When your wedding day passed without a sign of you, then her mother died of a fever she contracted from a patient, my mistress stopped praying.”
    Sickness roiled inside Raleigh’s belly. He should have been there to be a husband to her, a helpmeet, someone to support her—even guide her—in her spiritual life, not contribute to her turning from the Lord.
    “Maybe if she can forgive me—” He broke off on a sigh to loosen the tightness in his chest. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but oh, how he wanted it. If Tabitha would give him her heartfelt mercy for what he’d done to her, the risks he took would be worth it. If they could start again, renew their friendship, their love . . .
    “I don’t know if you’ll get forgiveness, Mr. Trower,” Patience said. “The hurt runs deep inside her.”
    “Maybe if she knows—”
    Footfalls sounded on the walk, swift and light. Raleigh shot to his feet, then stood motionless, not knowing whether he should wait for Tabitha to enter the house or if he should rush out to greet her. His heart raced, and he feared if he didn’t move, it would burst right from his chest.
    He took a step toward the door, stopped, glanced at Patience. “Should I wait here or—”
    The front door burst open. Warm air smelling of the sea swirled through the room. Carried on the breeze like a schooner under full sail, Tabitha swept into the parlor. “Patience, it’s so terrible. Three young men disappeared last night. They left the tavern in—” She ceased on a gasp. Her hand flew to her throat, and color drained from her face. “Raleigh!”

4
    ______
    A long scratch marred the pristine surface of the silver tray where Dominick had dropped it onto the floor. He intended the incident to distract Miss Tabitha Eckles, the mermaid midwife. Instead, it drew too much attention to himself, not to mention the hour he was spending in the stuffy confines of the butler’s pantry, rubbing out the scratch with emery grit that stuck to his fingers, his sleeves, his nose.
    “I should have